Criminal Minds: Of Bonds not of Blood
by Kateri3740
Summary: Criminal Minds drabbles and one-shots, focused on the family that is the BAU. "The bond that links your true family is not one of blood, but of respect and joy in each other's life. Rarely do members of one family grow up under the same roof." -Richard Bach "Don't they know that we're a family? That that's why this works?" -Garcia Warning: Some chapters contain spanking.
1. Rossi-Hotch: Eat, Aaron (Divorce Era)

After the divorce, Hotch is focusing intently on work. Rossi reminds him to eat and get enough sleep, which Hotch...doesn't take too kindly to.  
 _ _Warning: This chapter contains spanking  
__ _ _Check the bottom for an Author's Note__

 **Dealing with Hotch: You Need to Eat, Aaron**

Hotch was working quietly at his desk, lamp on, scribbling away at some forms.

He was startled at the sound of something dropping onto the desk beside him and looked up, blinking owlishly at the older agent standing next to him, a matter-of-fact look on his face.

"You need to eat."

Hotch sighed. He knew that, he really did, but he was right in the middle of something he wanted to get done before going home. He would eat it in a bit.

"Thanks Dave," Hotch replies, giving a small smile to his mentor before picking up the sandwich and putting to the side, resuming his paperwork. "I will as soon as I am finished here."

Rossi frowned down at him, unseen by his bent head, and picked up the sandwich to again drop it next to the younger Agent, causing him to sigh.

"No, Aaron, eat now. You and I both know that you could continue with this blasted paperwork forever, not realizing how much time has passed." Rossi's voice turns from stern to concerned. "You didn't eat lunch today, kid, and we both know tonight will be a bit of a late one." His voice dropped back to stern, as he raised an eyebrow. "But not all night, correct?"

Hotch felt a wave of irritation. Yes, his mentor had made his point _quite_ clear on all nighters, and no, he was not going to disobey that order again; well, at least not without a very good reason. And it's not like he wasn't planning on eating, just not right now!

He looked up towards his mentor, a spark of temper evident in his eyes and tone.

"Of _course_ I am not staying all night. I was just planning on finishing this up, _Dave_ , and then I will be going home. I can eat, when I get there!"

Rossi again raises a brow at the kid in front of him. Does he really think he was going to accept that type of tone?

"Watch it Aaron," he says warningly. "Tone it down a bit."

Aaron closes his eyes, and lets out an exasperated sigh. He opens them and looks at Rossi, still smoldering, yet respectful. "Yes Rossi," he responds.

Rossi "Hmmms," looking at him, then turns, walking out.

"You have 20 minutes," he calls over his shoulder, "and I will be back. Since you are almost done, we will leave then." He pauses in the doorway, facing his protégé with a look. "And Aaron," he says, sternly, "That sandwich had better be nothing but crumbs when I get back." Then he turns and walks out the door.

Hotch rolls his eyes, muttering under his breath, before resuming his work. "Ridiculous man," he says to himself. Then he glares at the sandwich, before facing the paperwork before him. _I'll eat as soon as I am done with this. Shouldn't take more than 10…minutes…_

 **20 minutes later…**

Rossi strides purposefully back towards the kid's office, dismissive of the fact that he is, in fact, Rossi's boss.

 _If the kid wants to be smart, then let him._ Rossi thinks. _He said he would be ready to go soon, then fine, we will leave._ Rossi continues, thinking wryly. _And to think, all this time of Hotch complaining I don't let him stay late enough to finish everything, and the time I am prepared to have a later than normal night, he wants to go early. Sheesh. Kids._ Rossi shakes his head fondly. _I just hope he toned down the attitude, or this might get unpleasant for him,_ he thinks, preparing himself for anything as he approaches the door.

He arrives, and stands in the doorway silently, watching his kid. Not that he would tell anyone but hey, truth is truth. He was still hard at work, hunched over his desk and writing furiously. Rossi lets out a silent sigh. _Looks like this is going to be a bit harder than I hoped. Like I thought, the kid is nowhere near ready to go._ His eyes narrow as he spots the sandwich still sitting in the same place he left it. _Alright Aaron. Challenge accepted._

"You done yet?" He calls out, voice deceptively mild.

Hotch freezes, and tenses his already tight shoulders, at which Rossi internally winces, before slowly looking up at Rossi with a glare.

"No," he grinds out, trying to ignore the fact that his mentor was right, and he is still engrossed in his paperwork, as predicted.

"Hmmm." Rossi says, looking at him neutrally, then shrugs. "Well, 20 minutes are up. Time to go."

Hotch grits his teeth. _It's like he's not even giving me an option!_ He thinks. _I'm not done with what I was working on, well, it's a connected document, in any case, so I will go home when I am done, like I said!_ He tilts his head up defiantly and narrows his eyes coolly towards his mentor, still lounging in the doorway, a measure of self-possession taking control.

"I will leave when I am ready, Dave."

Dave, noticing the willful expression even before his protégé opens his mouth to speak, prepares himself. After Hotch's bold rebuttal, he responds.

"Hmm, is that so?" Rossi questions, exiting the doorway to enter the room. He crosses his arms casually, as if pondering, and starts to walk back and forth in front of Hotch's desk. Hotch feels the first twinge of unease spread through him. "Because it seems to me, Aaron," he says, finally stopping to turn to face his charge full on, and hardening his tone, "That **I** said we would be leaving in 20 minutes."

Hotch got a hesitant look on his face at last, finally realizing that it might be better to try and negotiate rather than challenge.

"Rossi…"

"No, kid," Rossi says with finality, shaking his head. "It's time to go."

"Fine!" Hotch exclaims, temper snapping as he slams down his pen. He stands up, and moves to get his things ready. Before he can even pick up his briefcase, however, he feels a strong arm wrapping around his stomach, one that pulls him over the desk he just vacated. His stomach sinks, but before he can protest he feels a sharp sting on the seat of his pants, followed closely by another. As Rossi starts to develop a rhythm, Hotch finds his voice.

"Rossi- ah! S-stop it!"

"Nope, not happening kid. You used up all your chances."

"Ahh! Ro- _ssi_!"

The older man continues, giving him one or two more swats before he speaks quietly, yet still heard over the persisting impact of hand on a fabric-clad behind.

"When I tell you it's time to leave, you leave."

He lets that sit, maintaining his efforts before he speaks again.

"You do _not_ challenge me like a teenager, **nor** do you throw a fit like a toddler!"

Rossi keeps his pace, but accentuates this with several harder swats. When Hotch huffs and struggles, his temper evoked by the accusation of acting like a child, Rossi stops.

"Do I need to go get something to help me?" he threatens. Hotch instantly stills.

"No," he mutters out sulkily.

"What was that?" Rossi asks, giving him a few intense smacks to his upper thighs, and Hotch winces, before he scowls.

"No sir," he says, his tone slightly better. Rossi "Hmmms," but resumes his pace. The pain in his backside growing, Hotch begins to wince at each successive smack.

"That said, you also," Rossi says, increasing his force slightly, "eat when I tell you to!" Hotch yelps at the harder swats before responding, the pain finally breaking through his stubbornness…mostly.

"Alright, alright! I will, I'm sorry!"

Rossi rubs his restraining hand in a comforting manner on the back in front of him.

"Thank you," he says gently, still preserving his swats. He falls silent for a minute, the only sound to be heard are the steady strikes of hand on backside, and Hotch's increasing reactions.

"Do you know why I get to do this?" He finally questions, pushing slightly on his back, and raising Aaron further over the desk so his sit-spots are more accessible, before he starts to aim his swats there. Aaron shudders, at the increased pain but also knowing what is coming, and moves his hands to hide his face as tears begin to well up.

"It's because I care about you," Rossi says gently, in contrast to his punishing hand. "And I need you to take care of yourself, regardless of how lonely and guilty you feel now that Jack and Haley are gone." The back underneath his hand tremors again, and Rossi can feel him start to shake with sobs. He softens his swats slightly and gently asks, "Do you understand?" The dark head can only nod in acknowledgement, and Rossi smiles, his heart breaking for the young man before him. "Good," he says, and with two more hard swats, the hardest ones yet, he stops the spanking. Hotch tenses at the last two swats, before he starts to weep.

Rossi's heart breaks at the crying man before him, and slowly rubs his back, letting him lay over the desk for only a minute before he gently guides him up and pulls him into his tight embrace. Hotch clings to him, crying, as Rossi softly rubs his hair and murmurs soft, nonsensical comfort to him in Italian.

"Shh, piccolo, Pàpa ti ama…" Rossi knows it wasn't a very hard spanking, barely 60 swats, and not at his normal strength, but with all of the emotions Hotch has been carrying around- guilt, fear, and failure… well, Rossi was grateful Hotch had pushed it tonight; it was good for him to get some of it out now, before he did something dangerous. He would have trouble sitting for the rest of the night, what little of it remained, but would barely feel it by tomorrow morning.

As the weeping slowly starts to decrease into hiccups, Rossi finally draws the dark head back some so he can see his face, while still holding him in his arms.

"They were not the only ones to care, piccolo. She was not the only one to notice when you did not eat enough, or had dark circles under your eyes from lack of sleep. You are not alone; you still have those who care about you. Do you understand?" Hotch nods at him, his eyes once again welling with tears.

Rossi gives a sad sigh, and pulls him in to resume their hug, before he kisses the dark head of the younger agent. "You will be alright, Aaron," he says gently. "We will all make sure of it." Hotch nods into Rossi's shirt, already wet with tears, and cries softly for a few more minutes. These tears are gentle ones, tears of overwhelming acceptance, all the while Rossi just strokes his head, humming.

Hotch finally gives a last sniffle, and gently pushes away the older man as he straightens, who releases him at the unspoken request. Rossi steps back and assesses the younger agent, still keeping contact by way of his hands on Hotch's shoulders, who looks back at him- waiting for direction. Rossi reaches out and wipes away a lingering tear with his thumb, gently cupping the young face before him.

"Ah Aaron," he sighs quietly. "Alright kid, you're coming home with me tonight," he says compassionately. Hotch frowns for a minute, and looks like he is about to argue, but then relents, agreeing. It's not like he really _wants_ to go home to his empty apartment.

"Yes Rossi," he responds quietly.

"Good," Rossi says, smiling and squeezing Hotch's shoulder one last time before moving towards the door. "I need to make sure you have a full meal tonight," he says. "I will make one of my mother's dishes!" He calls over his shoulder. "Be ready in 3!"

Hotch just smiles fondly after his boss- well, not anymore, but still. The older agent knew him, and cared for him; it didn't really matter who was officially the boss, no matter how he sometimes tried to pull rank. Hotch blushes in remembrance, but keeps smiling as he stiffly turns to finally pack up his things for the night. Rossi's cooking is the best, especially when he makes one of his mother's recipes. As he packs away his folder, he hears Rossi call down the hallway-

"Don't even think about bringing any work home, Aaron!" The agent in question smiles ruefully as he replaces the folder on the desk. It was nice to know someone knew him well enough notice those types of things. Even when he didn't always want them to.

 **The End**

 _Shh, piccolo, Pàpa ti ama..._ Shh, little boy, Papa loves you.

 _Well, there you have it. Another one-shot. I meant to make this a drabble and start a challenge, just to get writing again for my poor readers who have waited so long, but...this was the result. I'm still willing to do some drabbles, however, so if you have an idea just leave me a review on this story, and I will see what I can do._

 _I have so many stories in progress for you guys, along with hundreds of ideas, but haven't posted them so you don't have to wait agonizingly for years for my writers block to end for that particular story. I am making progress on Dealing with Timmy: Dealing with lies, and a little bit of progress on Dealing with Canada: On the Brink. Having lived in Canada for two years, I have some more perspectives, and some other great ideas to add into Hetalia world, but for now, just sticking with it. I also have some great Fairy Tail stories in the works, along with a really long Lord of the Rings one, involving Celeborn, Elrond, Elrohir and Elladan. I hope to keep working on these and others, as I have been writing more nights than not on at least_ something _. So, hopefully you will see more coming up, but again, shoot me a review if you want to see something in particular for a drabble!_


	2. Rossi-Hotch: Heritage & Soup(Probie era)

_Rossi is sick from the cold, and after having a rough day at work Gideon suggests Hotch bring something to the older agent for dinner tonight, in place of Gideon. Hotch brings soup._

 **Chapter Two: Shared Heritage- Sick Soup**

Hotch knocks quietly on the door, before he opens the door and peers into the darkened bedroom.

"Hey Rossi," he whispers. "I brought some soup for you."

Rossi stirs, broken from his light doze by the younger man's call.

"Hm?" He opens his eyes, and peers blearily into the dark. "Aaron?" He croaks, his voice rough from his cold. "Yeah, come on in kid," he calls, pushing himself further up onto the pillows behind him as he waves Hotch into the room.

Hotch smiles briefly at the older man, and carefully pushes open the door fully with his foot, his hands occupied with a large tray on which sat a steaming bowl of soup, among some other thing.

He walks slowly over to the bedridden Agent, who watches his approach eagerly.

When he arrives, he quietly slides the tray over onto Rossi's lap, explaining rapidly, as if embarrassed.

"I know it's not one of your recipes, but my mom made it for me a few times, when I was a kid."

The _before my father died_ , went unspoken between the agents, but Rossi still understood the sentiment.

"It always made me feel better, in any case." Hotch shrugged, self-deprecatingly. He didn't say it, but he was worried it wouldn't be up to the Italian's standards. I mean, his cooking is legendary!

Rossi closes his eyes briefly. Would the younger man's past ever stop haunting him? He opens his eyes and looks over to the kid standing next to him, looking down at his clasped hands and fidgeting. _He is still so worried about rejection_ , he thinks to himself.

"It looks amazing, Aaron," he says, giving a grateful smile to his Rookie agent. Hotch looked up at him and smiled back, a bit unsure.

Rossi picks up the spoon, and gestures to everything else on the tray.

"And what is all this?" He asks, trying to prompt the younger man to continue and relax.

"Oh!" Hotch jumps slightly, and then goes on to explain, a little bit excited.

"Well, there," he says, pointing to the also steaming mug, "is some lemon tea with honey, to help with your throat, and here, an extra box of tissues in case you were running out. I also brought some crackers and cheese, in case you wanted to dip them into your soup." He looks down, a bit embarrassed, and said, "The little packets have some sweetener, because I didn't know if you wanted any for your tea or not."

"Thank you, Aaron," Rossi says, smiling. Hotch grinned back, again a bit hesitantly.

Rossi then reaches out to try the soup, aware of Hotch's worried eyes watching him intently. He places the spoon in his mouth, and then closes his eyes to savor the taste. It was a creamy Tomato soup, one that soothed his throat going down and burst with flavor, without being too rich for an upset stomach.

He had a small smile on his face as he opened his eyes, which were glazed not just from his slight fever, but also tasteful bliss.

"Is it okay?" He hears his rookie anxiously ask from next to him. He turns to face him.

"Aaron…" he says, drawing it out, increasing the suspense, and therefore the relief. "It is **absolutely** incredible."

Hotch's face brightens drastically as his shoulders relax, and Rossi's heart clenches at the look of amazement on the younger man's face. _It's as if he can't believe he can do anything well._

"Really?"

Rossi nods. "Really," he says.

Hotch's face breaks into a huge grin. Rossi watches him, and suddenly has to clear his throat, and not just from his sickness.

He takes another spoonful, swallowing it down. Once he opens his eyes again, his eyes are a little glassy as he reaches out, and places a warm hand on Hotch's arm.

"Truly, Hotch," he says, "Thank you."

Hothc just nods at him, still grinning but a bit embarrassed. Rossi clears his throat again, and goes on to continue his soup.

"You said your mother made it?"

Hotch nods, still smiling, although it fades a little.

"Yes, it's my…grandmother's recipe." Rossi heard the slight hitch in his voice as he explained the origin, but ignored it.

"And your mother gave it to you?"

Hotch nods, a nostalgic smile now gracing his features.

 _Well, at least the woman did that, if nothing else,_ Rossi thinks, before taking another bite. Rossi "mmms" again in pleasure at the taste, and then gestures to the other side of his King-sized bed.

"Join me?" he asks.

Hotch freezes, a look of uncertainty capturing his face.

Rossi pats the bed. "Come on, I could use the company. Civilized company," he adds. "You're not annoying like Jason is," he says with an eyeroll.

Hotch laughs at this, knowing well the friendly bickering that existed between the two senior agents, and complies. A slow smile comes onto his face as he clambers onto the bed, realizing that Rossi wants _his_ company. Rossi smiles at the sight.

His dignified, former-lawyer rookie agent, climbing with hands and knees onto a King-sized bed like a kid.

Of course he smiles.

"Family recipes," he says, as Hotch finally settles down. "They truly are amazing, aren't they?"

Hotch nods in agreement, yet unsure as to where the older man is taking this.

Rossi taps the younger man gently on the head with his spoon handle.

"Food brings people together, Aaron, I want you to remember that." Hotch looks at him, confused, so Rossi continues.

"The table is universally recognized as a place for coming together, to be with each other in community. When we welcome people to a table, we are acknowledging that common bond of heritage and tradition, one that extends beyond the limits of any specific culture."

Rossi takes another bite of Hotch's soup, again closing his eyes in appreciation of the taste, as Hotch looks on, eyes wide. Rossi swallows, and, opening his eyes, looks down at the soup bowl before he continues.

"When we share food with another, we are giving them a gift, a piece of our history, a look into who we are as people and where we come from." Rossi looks back up at his guest, capturing his eyes before he continues. "By joining in the meal, they accept that offer, and accept what we are showing them, acknowledging it and respecting it. This shared meal breaks the bindings of difference, binding people together in something they all have in common- gathering for a meal."

Hotch is just staring at him, stunned by what he just heard.

Seeing this, Rossi breaks into a small smile and asks him,

"Do you understand, Aaron?"

This seems to shake him out of his daze.

"I - I think so, Rossi."

Rossi nods. "Mmmm. Good." He pauses a moment, before he continues.

"In which case, Aaron," Rossi pauses and again grabs Hotch's eyes with his own, and takes one hand to place on the younger agent's shoulder, "Thank you, for sharing your heritage with me," he says sincerely.

Hotch just looks at him, mouth open slightly before he starts to stutter, a blush creeping up his face.

"Y-yeah, of course, I mean, I lov- it wasn't a proble- uh…you're welcome?" Rossi just chuckles, and gives his shoulder a last squeeze before he goes back to his soup.

"So," he says, grabbing some crackers from the package, "did I ever tell you about the time when I, during Christmas preparations as a child, switched the salt and sugar as a prank?"

Hotch lost his blush, and just stared at Rossi, horrified.

You did what?"

Rossi laughed ruefully. "Yeah, I was about eight at the time, thought it was hilarious. I didn't think things through all the way." He adopts a joking tone, and nudges the man next to him. "Like someone else I know at times," he says teasingly.

Hotch blushes and makes a face, before his attention was drawn back to the story. "So what happened?" he asked, still enthralled.

Rossi looks sheepish, and rubs at the back of his neck.

"You know what happens to you when you do something stupid without thinking it through first? Yeah, well… you can blame my parents for being the ones to teach me about that."

Hotch now really does stare at him, mouth open.

"Really?" He asks, incredulous.

Rossi chuckles now, which ended in a slight cough, making Hotch lean forward in concern. Rossi just waved him away, and continued. "I was a kid once, too, Hotch." He says, smiling amusedly. "Did you think I never got into trouble?"

"Well, no, but…" Hotch just shakes his head. It was just hard for him to imagine his boss being a kid and getting into trouble.

"Hard to imagine, huh? Good to know that you're seeing my absolute perfection," he says, reaching over to ruffle Hotch's hair. Hotch bats his hand away, protesting yet trying to hide a smile. "Ro- _ssi_!"

Rossi just laughs, but drops his hand. Hotch scowls, trying to suppress a smile as he exaggeratedly tries to straighten his hair. Rossi just watches him, amused.

When he is done, Hotch gets a mischievous look on his face. Rossi started to get worried, concerned for his health, until Hotch spoke, contributing his own story.

"Once, when I was a kid, we went over to Nana's house for Thanksgiving, and my mom tried to help with the turkey. She put hand sanitizer all over it, because the instructions said to 'sanitize the turkey'."

It was Rossi's turn to stare, before he burst into laughter, which Hotch joined in, smirking.

"Oh my gosh, now _that_ is good," Rossi wheezed. Hotch nodded, but reached over for the Agent's water bottle next to the bed, and handed it to him, noticing the heavy breath.

"Thanks kid," Rossi says, accepting the bottle, and then taking a long drink. When he is done, he looks at Hotch with pure fondness on his face. "Talk about sharing heritage, huh?" Hotch nods, still smiling, yet a little embarrassed at the attention. Rossi, seeing this, just shakes his head and lightly cuffs him in the arm.

"Do you have any other stories like that?" he asks, grateful to see there were some good memories from his childhood for his protégé, but also watching out for bad memories creeping in.

Hotch seems to think.

"Well, there was this one time…"

They spent the afternoon together in comfort. Swapping stories, laughing, and sharing a meal together as Rossi slowly ate his soup and crackers, while Hotch ate the cheese without noticing, not that Rossi minded. This kid didn't have enough joy in his life. The stories started to taper off, Rossi finding the talking irritating his chest. They sat together as Rossi started to doze off. Before he fell asleep, however, he looked over to see Hotch curled up and sleeping on the bed next to him. Smiling fondly, he grabs a blanket lying next to him and drapes it over his rookie, who was quickly becoming family. He reaches over and tousles his hair, as he murmurs with a slight smile,

"Sharing heritage indeed."

 _Tbc..._

 **Author's Note:**

And here's the next one! Hope you enjoyed it. :) Also, that story with the Turkey on Thanksgiving is true- it happened at my house some years back. Let me know if you have anymore ideas!


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